Meet the Aunt and Uncle
by Zatasha
Summary: Ginny insists on meeting Petunia and Vernon with Harry when James Sirius is one year old. What explosions will happen after seven years apart from Harry's aunt and uncle? My first fic.
1. Do we HAVE to go?

**Me: What if I don't put in a disclaimer**

**Lawyer: ... nothing**

**Me:So why must I put one in**

**Lawyer: you might get sued**

**Me: but I thought you said nothing would happen**

**Lawyer: ...Law is a delicate rose...**

**Me: So I just tell them I don't own Harry Potter?**

**Lawyer: Yes**

**Me: How does one go about owning Harry Potter?**

**Lawyer: oh MY GOD**

_Dear Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon,_

_I am sorry that we have not had contact for a while. My wife, Ginny, was wondering if perhaps she and I could visit sometime. She would like to meet you. Please mail back with a good time as soon as possible_

_Harry_

_--_

_Next Friday, 3 pm, the normal way._

_Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon_

_--_

"I feel for you, mate," said Ron, who seemed to be holding back a smirk under his tea cup. "I mean, going back there after so many years?"

"Yeah, I don't fancy explaining seven years of my life to them," said Harry, slinking low in his chair. He was in Ron and Hermione's kitchen in the countryside house. Hermione made a 'tsk'ing noise from the stove, where she was poking the fire beneath a kettle with her wand.

"Just tell us, Hermione, would you?" asked Ron impatiently.

"Well, you should've invited your aunt and uncle to the wedding!" Hermione burst. "It's bad enough that you haven't kept in touch with them! They don't even know about James, or that they have another great nephew on the way. And you didn't write to them when you were married, did you?" Harry shifted guiltily in his seat. It was true- he had not contacted them since they departed seven years ago.

Luckily, this scene was interrupted by the wail of an infant. "That'll be Rose," sighed Ron, "Can you get her, Hermione?"

"I got her last time and the time before, it's your turn, Ron!"

"Come on, Hermione, I just got home from work…"

"See you," said Harry, turning on the spot towards home.

"You're not getting out of it that easily," said Ginny, smirking. Harry had just said that he was too sick to go to his aunt and uncle, faking a coughing fit. He desperately wished he had some Puking Pastilles, or maybe a Fainting Fancy.

"Ginny, come _on_," said Harry, flopping his arm on her pregnant stomach. "We can still get out of it. I mean, it's really not necessary, not reall-"

"Of _course_ it's necessary!" Ginny sat up, ignoring Harry's shushes that James might wake. "They raised you! Not well, of course, but they're James' great uncle and aunt, and my aunt and uncle in-law."

"Is there even such a thing?" Harry muttered. Ginny ignored this also.

"They're family. Not good family, but family. Plus, it'll give me a chance to interact with Muggles!" Ginny brightened. She had luckily not inherited her father's awkwardness with all things non magical, but as a pure-blood wizard, had limited experience with muggles.

"Fine," said Harry, inwardly groaning, "just for you." Ginny warmly kissed him. Really, it was almost worth it just for that.

It seemed like no time had passed at all before Harry and Ginny had loaded James in their borrowed car and set off to Privet Drive, Little Whining. Harry had grumbled about driving until Ginny said, "Well, muggles drive, don't they? Anyway, it'll be putting that driving license to use, Harry!"

So off they drove, finally pulling up besides the plainest house on a plain street. The house that Harry had loathed as a teenager seemed smaller now, maybe less horrifying. Harry could see Aunt Petunia's eyes flash beneath the blinds, nervously awaiting his arrival.

Harry stalled in the car for as long as possible before Ginny had eased herself and James out of the car, then attempted to force Harry out also. Memories of the prudishly kept front lawn echoed through Harry's mind as he and Ginny, James in arm, dawdled up to the front door. The moment Harry wrung the bell, the door opened almost simultaneously.

**Review PLEZ**


	2. er, his is my wife and son

**Me: I suppose I should put the disclaimer and all? Seeing as I don't own Harry Potter?**

**Lawyer: Yes. The _only _person that _dosn't_ have to put one is JK Rowling**

**Me: What if I am JK Rowling?**

**Lawyer: You're not**

**Me: ... How do y_ou_ know**

**Lawyer: You're not JK Rowling**

**Me: tear**

Aunt Petunia stood there, rather nervously hurrying them in

Aunt Petunia stood there, rather nervously hurrying them in. Her hair was greyer and she seemed thinner. But to Harry's surprise, he didn't fins her half as intimidating as he had as a teenager. Once they were into the foyer, Aunt Petunia jerked her head at James, saying, "You said nothing about bringing an infant." She then eyed Ginny's enlarged belly as if she wanted to remark about that, too.

Ginny cleared her throat, reminding Harry that she had not been formally introduced. "Oh yeah, this is my Aunt Petunia. Aunt Petunia, this is my wife, Ginny," he said, putting his arm around Ginny, "and our son, James." He motioned to now fussing one-year-old James. Petunia merely sniffed, then with a jerk of her head led them to the sitting room. There seemed to be an overgrown walrus on the couch, which turned out to be Uncle Vernon. His face, purpler than ever, swiveled around to survey Harry. The beady eyes narrowed as they fell on Ginny, the baby in her arms, and the obvious pregnancy. Harry then introduced her and James once more. Vernon turned his head back, which Harry took as a cryptic direction to sit on the loveseat opposite the couch. As he and Ginny settled down, Petunia sat primly in an upholstered chair. After considerable silence, Ginny decided bravely to strike up conversation.

"So, how are you?"

Before Aunt Petunia could open her mouth, Uncle Vernon had rudely responded, "No need to ask what you've been doing." Vernon motioned to James and Ginny's stomach, a nasty smile on his lips. Harry had to fight the strong urge to get to his feet and hex Uncle Vernon into eternity. Sensing this, Ginny laid her arm across Harry's legs. She didn't seem the least bit offended by Vernon Dursley.

"Actually, we have been busy," Ginny said carefully. Taking this completely incorrectly, Aunt Petunia's mouth fell slack. "I mean," Ginny continued, "Harry with all his Auror work (you know he's head of the department!) then my retirement from the Harpies, and now the workload with the _Daily Prophet_."

Harry realized, hiding a smile, that Ginny was purposely angering or confusing Petunia and Vernon. After all, they hardly recognized a word she said.

"Then between that," Ginny plowed on, "was our wedding. And James, of course. Now, there is another on the way!" Harry had been around Hermione and Ginny enough to recognize this as the 'jealousy' attack. Sure enough, it seemed to be working.

"A wedding?" Petunia said in a distant voice. Harry didn't see why she seemed so troubled. Even if they had invited her, surely she would not have gone?

Harry sensed that it was his turn to continue. "Yes, two years ago. Then, one year ago, we had James." He ignored Uncle Vernon's grumblings of, "didn't waste much time, did you?" Hastening on, Harry said, "Ginny was playing quidditch for the Holyhead Harpies. You know, quidditch, the game on brooms." Harry said this to see just how pursed Petunia's lips would go. "Now she writes for _our_ newspaper, the _Daily Prophet_, in the quidditch section."

"And tell them what you do, Harry." Now, Ginny seemed to enjoy torturing the Dursleys as much as Harry did.

"I'm an Auror. Kind of a wizard, secret agent, sort of thing." He saw the expression on Vernon's face darken. He had said the 'w' word.

In an intensely cheerful voice, Ginny said, "So, what've you been doing?" There was a silence where it was obvious nothing would be said.

"Mum," called an oddly familiar voice from upstairs, one Harry thought he would never hear again, "is there somebody visiting?"

Heavy footsteps sounded down the stairs. There in the living room stood a rather sturdy blonde young man, looking _better_ than Harry had ever seen him.

"Harry!" roared Dudley Dursley, "I thought I'd never see you again!"

**REVIEW PLEZ**


	3. Dudley's Repentence

**Hey, guys, sorry for the late post, I just put on a musical in drama over the last few days, and my director is CRAZY about practices...**

**Oh, and thanks for the beautiful reviews, they really mean a lot to me. Keep 'em coming!**

**Luffs ya all**

**-Zatasha**

**OH! I almost forgot! The _darling _disclaimer! I'm gonna make it short this time- If I owned Harry Potter- He and Hermione would be married, Ron would die and nobody would care, Dobby would replace Ron in the trio, and Harry would have an affair with Luna. Oh, and the books would be a _lot_ shorter. So, obviously, I don't own Harry Potter**

Harry had barley risen from the stuffed couch and murmured a greeting when Dudley ran over to ring his hand. He seemed beside himself with happiness and excitement at seeing his cousin once more. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry was reminded fondly of Dedalus Diggle.

After one of the longest handshakes Harry had ever experienced, Dudley finally drew his hand back. His eyes slid to Ginny, than James, widening from their normal small expression.

"Oh, this is my wife Ginny, and our son James," Harry repeated for the millionth time that day. "And this is Dudley, my cousin." Harry said unnecessarily to Ginny. As Dudley stooped down a little to reach Ginny's hand, Harry noticed many changes that his cousin seemed to have undergone. His blonde hair had receded somewhat, and he was still rather voluminous, though muscular. However, Dudley's expression was kinder than Harry remembered as he grinned down at James. Dudley was watched closely by the whole room as James reached out to grab his finger (already with reflexes like a seeker). Harry looked on with caution, Ginny with bewilderment. On the other side of the room, Petunia and Vernon watched with scorn as their son and great nephew interacted. Petunia quickly interrupted this state of peace.

"I thought you weren't getting back until late from your business trip, Dudlikins," said Aunt Petunia.

Dudley withdrew from James to look at his mother. "I caught a train early this morning," he said, eyebrows coming together. "You didn't tell me that Harry was coming.

Ignoring this statement, Petunia crooned, "Dudley's working in his father's business."

"Ah," said Harry. Looking at Dudley, he could tell that his cousin wasn't nearly as pleased to be working with his father as his mother was.

"Sure knows how to make a living for his _family_, my boy does," Vernon boomed from the couch.

"Family?" This time Ginny glanced curiously at Vernon and Dudley. Harry was equally as nonplussed.

"I'm just dating this woman from work-"Dudley was cut off by his mother.

"Dating leads to marriage!" Harry wouldn't be surprised if Petunia already had a dress picked out for Dudley's unplanned wedding.

"Want some tea?" muttered Dudley, clearly embarrassed by his parents. Without waiting for a response, he hurried into the kitchen. Harry made a split-second decision. "One second," he whispered to Ginny, then he followed the hulking figure of Dudley into the kitchen.

Dudley reached for some mugs across the shiny counter, then turned around, seeing Harry's reflection in the too-clean microwave. "Harry?"

"Hey, Dudley," Harry tried a casual tone of voice, leaning on the counter by his cousin. "So what've you been up to?"

"Oh, well, you know, just what _she_ told you." Dudley plugged in the kettle rather forcefully. There was a pause, and he went on, "You know, I couldn't imagine working anywhere else than for Dad." Harry still stood rather awkwardly by the counter. This was only the second time he had heard any sort of emotion out of Dudley.

"Is it OK, working for him?"

"Well, you know," Dudley scrunched up his face, as if trying to think. "No. It's what I've been doing my whole life, and after you left…" Dudley suddenly stopped, glancing at Harry. Harry nodded, curiously eager to hear more. "… after you left, they put us in the sort of house we stayed in, when I was eleven. Remember that house?" Harry nodded, vividly remembering the shack by the ocean in which he had first found out he was a wizard. "And that little man with the top hat stayed with us, he was sort of nice after a while. Dad hated him. They wouldn't let us out, not even for groceries. Well, at least I didn't have to have any grapefruit," said Dudley grinning. He went on, "Then after a while, maybe in May? Anyway, they let us out finally. The man with the hat was really happy, even though his house was gone. He just kept saying stuff about that evil guy, Wold Mert, or something, and about you." Dudley stopped, as if remembering something important, and then looked up at Harry. "What happened?"

Harry observed the repetitive situation he was in. One more, he was in the Dursley's stainless kitchen, being asked details about the magical world. This time, however, the situation was not as stressful, yet not cheerful either. The full irony hit him as he saw Dudley with a curious respectful expression on his face, awaiting answers to an endless question.

"Well, erm…" Harry didn't know where to begin. Should he start, perhaps, at when he and Dudley parted, or when he first started Hogwarts, or even as far back as the young Severus and Lily? But by glancing at Dudley's face, Harry realized he would probably be satisfied with a short answer. "I killed Lord Voldemort, the evil one, that May." He said, simply.

"Oh," Dudley said, "that's what I thought." He looked once more curiously at Harry. "That was a big deal, wasn't it? Didn't Lordemort kill a lot of people, and stuff…"

_And stuff_. Harry thought, sardonically. "Yeah, he did."

"Whoa," Dudley peered at Harry, who was again reminded of somebody from the magical world. This time it was the Creevey brothers, who sadly, were brothers no more. "Harry? Is something… wrong?" Harry realized that he had been silent for a while after Dudley's praises, and shook himself awake.

"No, its just, er- this is kind of different for me…" Harry trailed off.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," Dudley poured steaming water with care into each cup. "I just, well, I know I didn't treat you the best when we were kids"-_Really? I never noticed_ thought Harry. But he listened to his cousin-"I was just, you know, doing what Mum and Dad taught me. And they, well, never really taught me that you were, you know, a person too. So I kind of learned that way, and I really am sorry for that…"

"What about seven years ago, you treated me… _fine_ that summer." Harry couldn't help but ask.

Dudley looked into the darkening teas, remembering something. "I just, you saved me two summers before from those black, dementors, I think it was. Even though I was so, well, cruel to you. And I never thanked you, really. So when I realized it might have been the last time that I saw you, I just had to say-"

"-thanks," Harry interrupted, finally understanding the inner workings of Dudley's simple mind. He couldn't think of anything else to say, so Harry finished with a simple, "Dudley, you're alright." His cousin blinked a couple of times and grinned

"Thanks. Help me take these mugs in?" Dudley handed Harry two warm cups of tea. He was tempted, just for a second, to levitate them into the living room, to see the expression on his relative's faces. Instead, he held the kitchen door open for his cousin.


End file.
